


You Wan Sum Fuk?

by JeromeSankara



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead RPF
Genre: Epic Bromance, Epic Friendship, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Funny, M/M, Memes, Rickyl Writers' Group, lemme smash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-07 23:36:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11069430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeromeSankara/pseuds/JeromeSankara
Summary: Norman wants to show Andrew something he found on the Internet. Again.





	You Wan Sum Fuk?

Plastic tarps were being desperately thrown over filming equipment, crew gathering up the props from being drowned within the sudden downpour. Actors and actresses were abandoning the set just outside the gates of Alexandria, seeking cover beneath trees.

Instead all that came out of it was growing more and more soaked.

The megaphone crackled with Greg's voice, calling them to attention to pack away the equipment. What was supposed to be a gentle shower had turned to the verge of a thunderstorm sweeping in at any moment.

There was a chorus of groans and curses at this news, and crew was flocking the actors with towels or anything they could find to keep the actors dry. Most were unsuccessful and instead made a sprint towards the trailers tucked away within the trees. Andrew unfortunately was one of them.

A curse was hissed beneath his breath as he tried to block the rain from getting into his eyes, but it was no use. His make-up was running down his face, the fake scars beginning to peel since they were not sealed to be waterproof. It was going to be another long night in the shower to properly wash the mounds of make-up, and probably will clog the drain again...

Thankfully his trailer was always the closest. Being the lead actor had its perks, but now all he wanted was to not be part of filming at all, not as a crash of thunder rocketed the small area. Andrew flinched, already digging into his pockets for the key to his trailer. He locked the damn thing for a reason... But he hadn't seen him on set at all today...

The key practically raped the hole as he slammed it in, frantically trying to open the door to escape the continuously pouring rain. It struggled against him, and he remembered that he had yet to ask for them to repair his lock. Maybe even just replace it at this point...

Finally after struggling, though, the door finally gave way for him. Water droplets were already splattering inside just by the small instance of having to open the door and slam it behind him, slicking the floor. God damn it, he just got new carpet... He would have to replace the rug, or try to dry it out...!

Running his hand through his peppered hair, he gave a long sigh as he reached out and clicked the lock in place. Maybe he was in luck... Maybe he was out for a shoot or something that he forgot to Andrew. For the first time this season, he may finally have his trailer to himself.

Sweet relief flowed into his body, and he swept his hair back. There were so many things he wanted to do now that he was alone... There was a book he had been meaning to crack open all month, he could clean out his fridge, maybe even have the futon to himself...!

Snicker.

...Oh no. He wasn't alone.

The color washed down his face with the make-up, and cold realization spread into his veins. What fresh hell was this...

Andrew slowly turned his head to his right, finally casting a glance to his trailer for the first time...

And there he was. Norman. His archnemesis for control over his own trailer.

He was spread out on the futon, feet propped up on the shoulder with sneakers still on. They were at least slightly clean, but the streaks of mud on the shoulder exposed that it wasn't always like that. Norman's hair spread out behind him as he held his phone up above his head, staring straight up to it.

"Got a bit wet, Andy?" was the casual chuckle, the blue eyes not yet glancing from his phone, transfixed within the screen. There was some sound coming from it, probably another video. That was what he passed the time with, watching remixes of his character with some music that the fans send him, weird cat videos, and whatever else he stumbled across.

Andrew let out a moan in frustration, burying his face within his hands. "How did you even get in...? I locked it this morning!" he groaned, starting to wipe away the water running down his face. He needed a towel...

Now no one in the world came close to Norman when it came to terms of friendship. They were close to the point of unnatural senses. But even though he loved Norman to the moon and back, there was only one line he didn't want him to cross.

His trailer.

"Don't go underestimating me yet, Andy. Got my ways," was the answer, not yet distracted from his phone. His feet shifted on the shoulder of the futon, crossing his ankles and bouncing one foot now and then. It was as if Norman owned the trailer... he practically did at this point.

"I don't go into your trailer uninvited," Andrew muttered as he walked past the futon, walking to the closet in the back of the trailer. There were only a few changes of clothing that wasn't costume, but he would make it work as long as it was dry.

"Don't got nothing in my trailer," Norman reminded him. It was true. Norman shared just about everything he owned, and all that was within his trailer was random cameras, vests, gifts from fans, and maybe his beard still.

Rolling his eyes so far that they almost dipped back into his head, Andrew relented on the conversation and snagged a towel from the rack. They were prepared for the wet season, about as much as they could be. When it wasn't nearing a hundred degrees, it was pouring or humid.

His futon creaked, and Andrew peaked his head out. Norman had sat up on the futon, his hair frizzed from static electricity, or perhaps just from not bothering to brush it again. With hair as long as his, it was a miracle that it was not in tangles every moment of the day.

"Hey, when you're done strippin' 'n shit, I got a video ta show yah."

Of course he did.

"Could you give me a few moments, Norman?" he groaned, glancing back to his wardrobe. His current clothing was more than soaked, dripping onto the floor. He may as well completely change...

The futon creaked again, and an arm reached past him and grabbed a random button-up shirt from season four. It was thrown literally into his face, leaving his hands scattering in an attempt to pull it back off. "Here, problem solved. If you're not on the futon in thirty seconds, you're gonna get a spankin'."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Andrew finally relented into his little game, pulling the shirt away just in time to see the smirk growing wider on his face.

Norman wasn't wearing anything Daryl, instead in a tight black shirt and dark slacks. He had his motorcycle jacket on, his favorite to wear, but he was already tossing it onto the futon. "Your choice, Officer Friendly," he snickered in response, soon plummeting into the abused futon. It groaned with the sudden weight, and Andrew winced. A lot of things had happened to that poor futon... Perhaps he should put it out of its misery.

Sighing, Andrew placed the fresh shirt on a shelf before slipping off the soaked one, letting it crumple to the ground.

"Pants, too. Don't get my spot wet."

"Norman, it's-..." It was no use, Norman owned just about everything he touched. It may be why he decided to mark his human territory in hugs, licks and kisses.

Trying not to groan at his friend's demands, he finally unbuckled his pants and tossed off the ancient cowboy boots, ones that were losing their soles again. Make-up was going to have to replace the sole again or risk their star getting blisters. Again.

As he finally dropped his pants, he was greeted by a wolf whistle from Norman. The other actor knew better than anyone else that Andrew thought underwear was constricting and useless.

Now sporting a sligh blush on his cheeks and a bit of bashfulness, he dug through his clothes and found a pair of jeans that didn't look completely worn through. There was a groan of disappointment and a heavy thud from the futon, and Andrew guessed that it was Norman's childish display of disappointment that he would not remain nude.

"I'm coming," he sighed as he slipped on the belt again, making sure to loop it tight. He didn't trust Norman when his pants were loose...

Finally after buttoning up the fresh shirt, he glanced back into the main part of the trailer.

Norman was on his back on the futon again, resuming close to the same position as when Andrew walked in. It left little room for Andrew, which he made sure to clue Norman in by a short "Scoot." He did just that, making just enough room for Andrew to lay down next to her.

Trying not to give hints to his old 42 year old bones aching from the wetness, he plopped down beside his buddy and laid down. His bare feet eventually set up on the shoulder, and Norman made sure to fondle their feet together.

"God damn it, Nigel, just show me!" he chuckled, elbowing Norman to the side. With breaking into his trailer aside, moments like these were always nice. It was a break between the stress of being on set, dodging away from fans or being hustled around to meetings, interviews and photo shoots. The more popular the show became, the less time they had to spend with each other.

Norman gave him a shit-eating grin, then plopped his head back down onto the cushion. "Mkay, it's like, the best thing ever," he bragged as he lifted up his phone again to let both of them watch from their laying position.

It was some YouTube video again, and he tapped on the screen and pulled a little dot to the far left to restart the video. He still had no idea just how any of this worked, but he could ask later. Andrew was aware of the radiating warmth behind him, shoulders pressed together along with their sides, practically conjoining themselves on the futon.

It colored his cheeks just that little bit more, but Norman was as clueless as ever, practically innocent for a man who kissed just about everyone he could.

"You ready?" Norman asked, childish excitement brimming in his voice as bright blue eyes met his.

"Yes, just show me already!" Andrew groaned, tossing his head back into the cushion a bit more dramatic than he should have, and earned an elbowing into his own side.

"You're gonna love it," Norman reassured him, grinning even more before dropping his head back down as well. Finally after enough foreplay for the video to leave him begging for a climax, he tapped his finger in the middle of the screen.

_"This is a nice stick. I like sticks."_

...It was a bird. The words on the screen matched the mechanical voice, and it sounded like it was from some cheap translator or an automated voice. The bird was surrounded by sticks, and it was... strange.

_"Peck. Peck."_

"...Norman, the bloody hell are you-"

_"Lemme smash."_

Norman let out a snicker that he had tried hard to stuff away, but he couldn't look over to Norman. He was still staring at the random black bird that had entered the picture.

_"Please."_

_"No, Ron. Go find Becky."_

_"You want sum fuk?"_

Again Norman started snickering again, almost snorting at the phrase and the expression of the bird that now stared back at the camera.

_"No, Ron. I don't want sum fuk-"_

_"I got you blue."_

All Andrew could do was blink as he stared at this video that Norman was so proud in sharing with him, still bursting out in giggles beside the Brit. It was just... strange. The black bird wanted to 'smash' the smaller bird, but...

_"Wot? Swiggity Swooty?"_

It was then that Norman broke out in a snort, followed by a few bursts of laughs. The entire time, Andrew was in the awkward position of listening to the strange compilation of automated voices, watching silly subtitles and birds hopping around on the screen.

Was this what Americans found funny?

_"Blue AND yellow? No."_

Was there a reason to it being those two colors? Did the bird not like yellow? Why were there sticks? And why could he see the BBC watermark in the top left corner of the screen?

_"Becky use to let me smash. But Becky is smashin Ben. Ben is a hoe. ...heck."_

"Ben is a hoe!" Norman laughed beside him, doing his best to immitate the voice in the video, and it only confused Andrew just that more. Was it the silly voice that was the funny part? Was it because they were birds and birds don't talk?

_"Ima get that bitch a stick. Bitches love sticks. Wrong stick."_

Were the sticks the joke? Not finding the right stick? What was even going on anymore?

_"Need stick. Got stick! BECKY! I got stick! LEMME SMASH."_

He blinked as the screen went black, a symbol now on the screen to replay the video again. Norman was still frantically laughing beside him, to the point that his hand was shaking while still holding the phone. Finally he dropped the phone back onto his own chest as he continued his laughs, obviously amused by the video. ...Somehow.

"I-Isn't it great?!" Norman stammered beside him, leaning up on his elbow to look back at Andrew. The Brit could almost see -tears- in his eyes from his laughing, his face flushed and grinning. But he soon dropped the grin and the laughing turned into huffs when he realized that Andrew wasn't laughing with him.

"...What's wrong?" he asked, tilting his head just slightly. The actor almost seemed to be hurt by the fact that Andrew wasn't laughing at the video he had found, and it almost made Andrew regret being able to laugh.

"I... I don't get it," Andrew plainly murmured, his frow furrowing in confusion. "Why... Why are the birds 'smashing'? How come there's blue?"

A loud groan came from Norman as he dropped back down to the futon in defeat. "It's not the birds, its..." Any attempt to explain what the video was actually about had failed within moments of stuttering, leaving both of them quiet as they laid on the futon.

He could hear Norman's fingers drumming on his phone, and he was aware of the rain that was still tapping against the glass. There was a few rumbles of thunder that were not far away, giving hint that the rain would not be going away anytime soon.

Norman cleared his throat awkwardly in an attempt to break the silence, before Andrew felt a slight prod to his side.

"...Here, I'll help you understand."

Andrew only just realized he could hear the grin behind his words before the weight on the futon suddenly rolled up onto his chest, soon straddling his body. Any questions that came to Andrew's mind were chased away as he stared up to his best friend, now sitting upon his waist.

" _Andrew_ ," he purred, tilting his head just slightly as his hands pressed down on both sides of the lead actor, the blue eyes scorching deep within his own. Andrew's heart leapt up into his chest, practically strangling him.

His fellow coworker soon leaned down, their chests soon pressed together in a way far more intimate than was normal from Norman, and the connection made his body spark. Every connection between them set fire through his veins, throwing his body into a whirlwind of insanity.

It was only when he felt the hot breath of Norman against his cheek did he managed to swallow down his shock, trying to voice a few words but Norman stopped him. He only leaned in closer, a hand reaching up and grasping Andrew's cheek and forcing their gaze to remain unbroken.

The smoldering expression of seduction made the heat triple, forcing him to look at the plump lips in a wicked smirk, the eyes glowing... Even now he managed to lean closer, to where their lips were just a small distance apart...

"...You wan sum fuk?"

"...God damn it Norman."

_"Lemme smash!"_

_"Norman!"_


End file.
